Lovers once leaves of trees;
Nobody heard them;
Too cold for the sunrise;
too grave for sleep.
Between the radiance of the sky;
Between walks in footpatterns of flightless snow.
Lovers with footsteps quiet;
The fluttering and tipping "he"
The retracing in postulate circles "she"
Head to shoulders for one another
Parallel lines - one flesh -
throb and sing.
One side: awakening.
The other side: primitive snow.
Nor lovers, nor she, nor he;
It goes on half life - half beating.
copyright 2009
